The Fallen
by FallingThroughSpaceAndTime
Summary: Katniss and Peeta won the 74th Annual Hunger Games but, on their road to victory, twenty two children met their deaths. *oneshot*


The Fallen

Thread stood on the pedestal, his breath coming in short rasps. He missed his girl. He had her locket around his neck, a million silent promises that he would come home to her, that they would have a family together in the Victor's Village. Promises broken before they'd even been made. She had said the silver chain would keep him safe but it definitely hadn't done much good at the reaping. He was thinking of his home in District Eight, of her, when he ran straight into Marvel.

…

Eva considered jumping. She played and replayed the scene in her mind. The mines beneath her feet would explode, and she would be flung sky high, her arms and legs ripped from her body, blood splattering on the grass whilst the Careers stood by and laughed. Their only regret that they hadn't had the pleasure of tearing the life out of her themselves. She remembered the reaping, the square in Ten. The way her friends had shrunk away from her the second her name was called, their looks pitying yet full of relief. She had found it fascinating. The sound of the gong startled her, and she stumbled forward, straight onto the tip of Cato's outstretched sword.

…

Aurora didn't stand a chance. Her mother knew that, when she was the only one who came to say goodbye in the Justice Building in Three, barely a week earlier. She should have listened to Beetee, she knew that now. She should have turned and ran, the second the countdown ended, but what would be the point? So she had ran blindly towards the Cornucopia. If she had been just a second faster, she would have been fine, she thought dryly as she lay bleeding, her leg cut open by the girl from Four. She closed her eyes when she saw the boy from Five advance on her, and she hardly felt the sickle slicing through her forehead.

…

Aria wondered what would happen if she just closed her eyes. She wondered if she would wake up in her bed in Six. She wondered if she would wake up at all. She didn't wait to find out. She grabbed up the yellow sleeping bag, and for thirty more glorious seconds, she thought she was going to get away. But then she spotted Glimmer, and spun around to fight her. It's quite obvious that Glimmer won. _I always hated yellow_ … Aria thought.

…

Arley just wanted the backpack. He caught the girl from Twelve just beyond the ring of pedestals. He fought her for it, and he thought he was winning. And then the knife came out of nowhere, and he barely had time to turn before he fell forward, the look of relief in Twelve's eyes short lived as another knife buried itself into _his backpack._

…

Oaks was expecting his death. He had spent hours wondering which tribute would kill him. He wondered if it would be the strong boy from Two, with his sword. Perhaps it would be the beautiful tribute from One, with her arrow buried in his throat. Maybe the small but no doubt deadly girl from Two would strike gold when her knife found his heart. The boy from One could catch his lungs with one of his spears. Or even the girl from Twelve would become his murderer- the Gamemakers didn't give her an 11 for nothing. Being from Seven he could wield an axe, but fat lot of good that would do him when he didn't have a head. He didn't see the big, dark boy from Eleven coming up behind him, and as he lay, bleeding out, he wished that Thresh could at least have killed him quickly.

…

Annabella missed her sister. She wondered what had happened to her district partner, Arley, but really it didn't matter. Only one of them could win. She said she'd get home. Her sister had been to see her in the Justice Building in Nine, and her words echoed in Anna's ears as the gong sounded. _Please come home, Anna. Please. I need you. You have to win. You have to win. You have to win…_ Even as her fellow tributes fell around her, she ran, grabbing the rucksack and turning to flee. Clove's malicious laughter filled her ears as a knife caught the side of her skull. She was dead before she hit the ground.

…

Cody was tired. Before he even entered the arena. And he missed Adam. He had last seen him at the Justice Building, back in Five, but that was over a week ago, and he had barely slept since. He had never really been accepted back home, but, if he _won_ , maybe, just maybe, things could be different. The girl from Four had tried flirting with him in training. He had told her that she wasn't his type, and she had laughed, saying, with a week left to live, one couldn't really afford to have _types._ Then it was his turn to laugh. _No,_ he had said, _you're really_ not _my type._ He was distracted by his thoughts when the gong sounded. Maybe if he hadn't have been, he would have had time to get away. _I'm sorry, my love,_ he thought as Glimmer pushed him against a crate. _I tried_.

….

Acacia was thinking of her family when the gong sounded. She was clutching the silver cross which hung on a chain around her neck. She ran for the Cornucopia, praying that she could be spared, just this once. Amber was watching at home, she reminded herself. Her sister didn't need to watch her scream. Her death was hardly instant. She had grabbed a rucksack off the boy from Three when the girl from Two- Clove- smashed into her, knocking her clean off her feet. She had thought for one spectacular moment that Oaks would save her, before she saw her district partner being cut down by the boy from Eleven. She was lucky- she dodged the first of Marvel's spears but the second found her heart.

…

Link tried. He really did. He thought he would have made his district and his family proud. He lasted longer than Aria, his district partner. He was nearly killed by Cato, but he pushed through. He fought the boy from Ten for a rucksack and _won_. He almost killed the boy from Five, strangling him before the little bugger had bitten into his hand and given him no choice but to let go. He had put up a bloody good fight when Glimmer came at him with a sword. He made his girl proud too.

…

Sebastian was told by everyone he couldn't do it. His brothers laughed at him in the Justice Building in Four, telling him that the most he could hope for was a quick death. His mother scolded them, but afterward, asked him to say hello to his father _if_ he made it heaven. His best friend had cried and told him that he would be missed. But Seb was clever. He hid, avoiding the fighting. If only he hadn't left it so late before getting out. He choked on his own blood, his throat slit open by Cato, his district partner laughing as she watched.

…

Tabitha was cold. She had been told by Cecelia not to make a fire, but she was _so cold_. She got away from the Cornucopia with a tiny rucksack, but all that held was some water, not a blanket, or a jacket, or a sleeping bag. The Careers were on her before she realised her mistake and she begged and they laughed and Cato handed Glimmer his sword and the blade pierced her chest. They walked away, mocking her, and then Peeta came back, and drove his knife into her skull. The last thing she ever felt was the cold of the forest floor beneath her broken skull.

…

Glimmer ran. She tried to hit away the tracker jackers with her hands, and when that didn't work she used her knife. Each sting sent shots of agony through her bones and tears streaked down her face. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was a _Career_ , she was supposed to _win_. The hallucinations were torture, the pain was anguish, and she collapsed, twitching, into a coma. She was vaguely aware of Katniss coming up to her, trying to take her bow, smashing her fingers, rolling her onto her back. One sound of the cannnon, and Glimmer was no more.

…

River lay in the lake. It dulled the pain slightly. Glimmer was dead, and the Pack had abandoned her. It was only a matter of time, and there was no point trying to tell herself otherwise. She was so tired. Perhaps if she just closed her eyes… just for a minute. Just a minute, then she'd win the games and go back home…

…

Caspian was killed by Cato on the eight day of the Games, but it was still too late. The isolation and fear were driving him insane. He'd survived three separate mutt attacks, a forest fire, and the vicious girl from Two, who had narrowly missed taking his head off. The kill was too easy. He lay beneath a tree, with only one leg, no supplies and not a sponsor in sight. He was almost relieved when he heard the Careers coming through the woods.

…

Everest had thought it was a good idea, at the time. That it would protect him from the careers until he had a better plan. That was before the mines blew up, destroying all the Careers' supplies. With only seconds before the others would return, there was nowhere to run. He stood, trembling, as Cato shouted at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a movement in the bushes and he almost smiled as Katniss shifted, her eyes full of horror. _Anyone_ but a Career. When he looked back at Cato, his hands were already reaching out and snapping his neck. It wasn't as painless as he had expected, but at least it was quick.

…

Marvel forgot in the heat of the moment that Katniss was a bloody good shot. He only wanted the girl. The little one. She wasn't going to win anyway. But then Katniss, poor, alone, half-mad _Katniss_ , had shot at him before he even had time to turn and run. The arrow caught his throat and he collapsed in a tangled heap on the ground. There was no point in shouting for Clove, or Cato. They were probably busy hunting anyway. Katniss turned back to Rue and sang her to sleep, and Marvel lay forgotten on the grass, his vision slowly fading to black. No one heard and no one cared when his cannon finally sounded.

...

Rue let the tears fall as Katniss sang to her. _Deep in the meadow, under the willow._ She thought of her family. She knew they would be proud of her. She hoped they wouldn't be too upset. _A bed of grass, a soft green pillow._ Katniss was crying more than Rue, her voice cracking, but she kept singing. _Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes..._

...

Clove knew the second Thresh lifted the rock that she shouldn't have bragged about killing Rue. He brought it down on her head once, twice, three times, until her body went limp. She cried, she cried for Cato, she cried because of the pain, she cried as she thought of the shame of _not_ winning. She heard Thresh let Katniss go, and as she ran away, Cato fell to his knees beside her. He begged her to stay with him. He told her of the riches they would have when they made it out of the arena _together_. He talked of the glory and the fame, but Clove cut in. _It's too late,_ she whispered with a sad smile.

...

Thresh was deeply regretting his brutal attack on Clove as he ran through the woods, Cato hot on his heels. He should have realised that the last Career would have been angry. But he wasn't thinking then. All he had wanted was revenge for the little girl who had danced so gracefully around her room when she though no one was looking. The final battle was long, and for a moment Thresh saw actual _fear_ in Cato's eyes, before the sword drove into his chest and he fell, gasping for a final breath. _It was worth it, for Rue._

...

Finch dazzled Capitol audiences from the moment she stepped into the arena, with her clever stealth and her flaming hair which was the envy of half the district girls. Though the sponsor gifts were few and far between, they rained down steadily to provide food and clothes and iodine to purify the river water. But as the weeks progressed, and the price of food skyrocketed, the distance between parachutes grew and grew until there were days before her mentor had enough to send her a cracker. She decided she wouldn't take many - just a handful from the huge pile of berries on the tarpaulin. Not enough to be missed, but enough to keep her going until a sponsor chose to see if the Power District was a worthwhile investment. She brought the berries to her mouth, but her hand fell as her throat began to close up.

...

Cato shouldn't have worn the body armour. It was just prolonging his agony. He wasn't even sure how much he wanted to go home anyway. He had almost wanted Katniss to fire the arrow. He was jealous, of course he was, that they would get the riches, the glory, the fame, when he had devoted his whole life to it. _And now he would die for it._ The mutts tore at him, and he looked up at the pair on top of the Cornucopia. It could have been him and Clove. It _should_ have been him and Clove. Katniss had her bow out. _Go on. I'm dead anyway._

 _..._

 _AN: Please review! It only takes thirty seconds and will definitely prompt future oneshots!  
(Also every time you review a rainbow is born so...)_

 _(Edited 18/09/15 - rereading this I realised I completely missed out Foxface, so here she is! Ooops)_


End file.
